


Returning Home

by DanceWithMeForScience



Series: This Entire Quadrant [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Earth, Fluff and Angst, M/M, New York, Protective Paul, Puerto Rico, Sensitive Hugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-02 02:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanceWithMeForScience/pseuds/DanceWithMeForScience
Summary: Hugh returns to Earth after a long time away, bringing Paul, his new boyfriend, with him for a couple weeks leave. He's mostly avoided the planet since a disastrous end to his previous relationship, but having Paul and old friends around him helps him face the past.





	Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @cygfa for the beta read!
> 
> This sequel to This Entire Planet was written for Culmets Celebration Week 2019, Oct 12-20! It fits in several of our prompt categories, like "friendship with others," "holiday/shore leave", and more, so I'm just posting it now.
> 
> Check out all the other stories and content being created for this week, here on AO3 in the Culmets Celebration Week 2019 collection, on Tumblr @culmetsweek, and on Twitter @culmetsweek2019.

“You were adorable at the Met,” Paul says over dinner, smiling at the memory. “I’ve never seen anyone so excited about art.”

“Not just art, Paul. De Kooning.” Hugh gives him a half-joking affronted look. “One of the finest Abstract Expressionists.”

Paul tilts his head down in acknowledgement as he stabs another chunk of herbed roasted potato. “They were very good paintings,” he says, knowing how unenthusiastic he sounds. But he hadn’t paid much attention to the art, not as much as he had to the feeling of taking the hand Hugh had outstretched behind him, waiting for Paul to grab it. It’s definitely love, and if he wasn’t so in love, he’d definitely be very frightened. He pops the potato in his mouth and chews uneasily.

He’s known he was in deep from the very beginning, from their meeting on Alpha Centauri to the whirlwind four days on Thalus Prime. They’ve met up one other time before this, a 36-hour “date” on Starbase 20, which mostly consisted of staying in Paul’s hotel room and going out for food when they weren’t sleeping or otherwise occupied with each other.

But now Paul has two weeks of leave from the lab, and Hugh’s been on extended leave, taking his first vacation in 2 years. The whole day has been like floating on a cloud, but especially since the Met. 

“Very good paintings,” Hugh repeats, narrowing his eyes slightly, a nervous edge to his voice. “Did you not enjoy it?”

Paul rolls his eyes. “I did enjoy it,” he says firmly. “You know it’s not my thing. But I loved seeing you in your element. And you made it a lot more interesting, telling me everything you knew about De Kooning, and all the others.” He reaches across the little table to put his hand over Hugh’s, resting uneasily on the table next to his set-down fork. “It’s only fair. You listen to me talk about mushrooms all the time.”

Hugh smiles, relaxing, the tension around his eyes disappearing. “I do.”

“And why, when it’s not your thing?”

“Because it’s you.”

Paul grins, squeezing Hugh’s hand, feeling like he is the luckiest man in the universe at this moment with this gorgeous brilliant sweet man smiling at him.

When Paul wakes up the next morning to the sounds of waves crashing on the beach, he reaches over for Hugh, who’s not there.

“Hugh,” he half-mumbles, half-calls.

“Just watching the ocean, babe,” Hugh says from the couch in front of the window.

They’re splitting their time between Puerto Rico and New York for the first week, and for a few days they’re sleeping in Aguadilla and transporting to New York as needed for meeting people, seeing museums.

Paul scoots upright in bed. He can only see the back of Hugh’s head from here, but he can also see the blue ocean, framed by gently swaying trees. A soft breeze coming through the open sliding door tickles the hairs on his chest. “Come watch the ocean from here.”

Hugh looks over his shoulder and smiles at Paul. “Well, now that you’re awake, I will.”

They snuggle in bed for a while, propped up by all the pillows they can find, sleepily enjoying their closeness, the sounds of the waves, the bird calls, the soft bed.

“As much fun as this is,” Paul says after some time, resting his chin on Hugh’s head, “if I don’t eat breakfast soon I’m going to be intolerable.”

“I heard there’s a cafe a couple blocks away that makes really good Boricuan food, maybe there.”

“As long as they have tea.”

“And coffee,” Hugh declares, “I am not going there if there's no coffee.”

Paul smiles as he hugs Hugh closer, burying his nose in his curls and kissing his head. They lapse into silence again.

“Fine.” Paul grumbles as he reluctantly releases Hugh and gets up. “Breakfast. Let’s go.”

After breakfast and a walk on the beach, they change for their afternoon in New York. A few of Hugh’s friends are meeting them at a cafe popular among the gay communities in Brooklyn.

“I haven’t seen any of them in over a year,” Hugh muses as he combs his hair at the bathroom mirror. “We haven’t even talked much since I left Earth. I miss them. I hope… they’re not angry with me.”

“Are you nervous?” Paul asks, getting his own comb out of his travel bag.

“Kind of,” Hugh confesses. He sets down the comb, leaning on the counter and staring at himself in the mirror.

“Hey.” Paul slips his arm around Hugh’s shoulders.

Hugh shakes his head. “It’s not their fault everything reminds me of Kel.” He leans into Paul. “I can’t believe I have you now, and memories of him still bother me. It’s ridiculous. I should be over this by now.”

Paul wants to say _I love you, it’s fine. _ But it’s still only been a few months, and the time they’ve spent together has been so short. He settles for kissing Hugh on the cheek.

Linda’s Restaurant is bustling with people and yet when Paul and Hugh and Hugh’s two friends are tucked into a booth in the corner, it feels cozy. 

Jaime promptly spills tea all over their brand new floral button-down shirt, sending them scrambling for napkins and paper towels trying to dry off. “Dammit,” they repeat as they dab at the mess.

“Do you need to go home?” Hugh asks. “Change and come back?”

“It’ll take too long,” they say irritably, shrugging off the shirt to reveal a bright teal tank top. “I’m going to go rinse it out in the bathroom. At least it’s a warm day.”

Lunch isn’t off to a very good start. Celestina’s buried in her PADDpadd. Bertrand hasn’t arrived yet. Hugh seems out of sorts still, and nothing’s really happened yet.

“Bien!” Hugh says brightly, obviously trying to change the tone of the situation. Something that Paul is never good at. “Cómo está la clínica, Cele?”

She looks up from her PADDpadd, startled, and then tucks it into her purse. “Sorry,” she apologizes in a gentle, low voice, smiling sheepishly. “I’m talking a friend through some work drama at _her_ clinic.” She brushes back long dark hair from her face with impeccably manicured fingers, nails painted with sparkly red polish. “Está bien. I’m staying busy there. A lot of patients. We’re working on decreasing our infection rates.”

“And how’s Trini?”

Her face falls. “We broke up last month.”

Hugh immediately scoots around the inside edge of the circular booth to wrap his arms around her. “Lo siento, honey.”

Tears form at the corners of her eyes as she bites her lip. “I’m not gonna cry.”

Hugh squeezes her and kisses her head. Paul is fascinated. He’s always known his partner has a heart of gold - he’s just never seen it in action with anyone but himself.

Now he wishes he could pull out his own PADDpadd without seeming rude. He’s definitely intruding on the moment. He contemplates excusing himself to the restroom.

“Hugh!” calls a deep voice with a West African accent. Striding toward them briskly is Bertrand - Paul’s seen pictures of him and Hugh together - a trim, smiling man dressed in sharply tailored clothes. He looks like a model, or a high-level Federation employee, or both.

Bertrand’s smile fades when he takes in the situation, Hugh hugging Celestina, both of them with somber expressions. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Hugh says, rubbing her back. “Yeah?” he asks her.

She nods. “It’s been a tough month. Hi, Bertrand.”

He sits down next to Paul. “We haven’t ordered drinks yet?”

“Well, Jaime got their tea first and promptly spilled it all over the place. They’ll be back in a minute. I imagine the hard drinks are taking longer,” Hugh explains.

A few moments later, the waiter returns with their drinks: margaritas for Celestina and Hugh, a hot toddy for Paul, and a replacement tea for Jaime. 

Jaime returns to the table a minute later, draping their damp shirt over the back of the booth. Everyone ends up standing up for a minute to exchange hugs; Paul stands off to the side, fidgeting.

He wraps his hands around the perfectly warm mug after they’re all settled again; Hugh is next to him, sipping his drink, and maybe after this first bout of awkwardness, everything will be okay.

He wants this to be perfect. It’s just like when he gives a talk and hopes that people will agree with him, be impressed by his work.

_Oh. _He really, really wants Hugh’s friends to like him. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Paul,” Bertrand says.

“Really?” Paul sips his drink, wishing it weren’t quite so hot so he could gulp it down, just for something to do.

_“_Hugh tells me you’re a mushroom scientist. That’s an unusual profession.”

“He probably also told you that if you get me started about it, I won’t shut up,” Paul says, half apologizing, half smug.

Bertrand shrugs. “Hugh likes a man who’s passionate about his work.”

Paul glances at Hugh, who smiles at him encouragingly. “He’s not wrong,” he says, patting Paul’s leg, pressed up against his own. “I -” Hugh’s eyes flick to Paul’s left. His smile evaporates.

“Hugh?” Paul’s partner has gone rigid beside him, his mouth now dropped open, looking like he’s seen a ghost. “What’s wrong?” Paul looks over where Hugh was looking, sees several people milling about, waiting to be seated. Nothing out of the ordinary.

When he glances back at Hugh, Hugh’s staring at the wall, muttering to himself, maybe in Spanish, maybe just too quietly for Paul to pick out the words.

“Talk to me,” Paul says, softly but firmly. “Please.”

Hugh utters what sounds like a nonsense syllable to Paul, spit out between clenched teeth. He’s about to ask Hugh to repeat himself, but then he follows Bertrand’s gaze - eyes narrowed, mouth is set in a line - to a clean-cut man with gelled dark brown hair, smiling and laughing with another man. 

_Kel_.

“What are the odds?” Bertrand shakes his head. “What are the fucking odds.”

“I can’t be here,” Hugh says, his voice small and quivering. 

Paul grabs his hand. “We can go,” he says

“No,” Hugh says with a deep controlled sigh, rolling his shoulders. “No. Maybe he’ll go away. I have a right to be here. This was our plan. He doesn’t get to win everything.”

Jaime nods. “Good. Let’s just ignore him. Try to have a good time?”

“Okay.” Hugh takes another deep breath. “Okay.” He sips his margarita, carefully never looking toward the door.

Jaime waves the waiter over again. They order plates of snacks for the table, and a backup drink for Hugh. Bertrand tells the story of a dramatic family reunion, complete with shouting matches and the revelation of long-held secrets.

It’s a good story, and Paul laughs at the right spots, gasps along with the others, watching Hugh shake off the disruption. But he feels only half-present, himself shaken by seeing his brave, friendly, confident partner shrink back into the booth, wanting nothing more than to become invisible.

Paul’s said it before, he’d say it now - he can’t believe anyone could look at _this man he loves_ and think of hurting him.

And the only reason he’s hesitant to tell Hugh that he loves him right now, as he’s been wanting to do since the moment he laid eyes on Hugh again here on Earth, is because of Hugh’s very real hurt, and because Paul doesn’t want to be the reason for Hugh to hurt. Ever.

“Another round?” Celestina asks after a while, gesturing at Hugh’s second empty margarita glass.

“Not for me,” Hugh says, pushing the glass away. 

They decide on a round of coffee, and Paul and Bertrand both head out to the restroom while they wait for the coffee to arrive.

But there in the hall, reading the bulletin board, is Kel. 

Kel looks over at their approach and blanches, his jaw dropping. But he recovers quickly. “Didn’t expect to see you ever again,” he says bitterly.

“I _hoped_ never to see you again,” Bertrand says, the even voice gone ice cold. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we.”

Kel’s dark green eyes flash over Bertrand’s shoulder to see Paul. “Who’s your friend?”

“My name’s Paul. It’s no pleasure to meet you,” Paul says, feeling the tension under his skin as he glares at the man.

Kel raises his eyebrows, scoffing, “Oh, so you’re Hugh’s new boyfriend. I heard he was seeing someone. Watch out, he’s a bit oversensitive.”

Paul’s not known for his even temper, but even he has never felt quite so much rage as he feels in this moment, almost like his vision is obscured by the steam of his blood boiling in his veins.

“Over_sensitive_?” Paul’s voice rises dramatically. 

Bertrand gives him a warning look, murmuring, “He’s not worth it.”

“_He’s _not,” Paul hisses, waving his hand dismissively at Kel. “But Hugh _is._” Bertrand concedes with a small shrug, stepping aside.

Kel steps into the open space, sneering. “Look, I’m not trying to say I didn’t make mistakes. But Hugh and I had a good thing, and he didn’t even give me a chance. Bet he didn’t tell you that.”

Paul rolls his eyes. “I give my lab samples _far_ fewer chances to thrive than Hugh gave you. He wasn’t obligated to put up with your continued failure to be a decent human being.”

“Did I complain when Hugh was assigned for long hours for weeks at a time? No, I supported him. Things got rocky, sure. He wasn’t willing to work on it.”

“Hugh will bend over _backwards_ to make anything work,” Paul says, barely keeping back a shout. “Can you honestly say you were working hard on your relationship when you slept with other men behind his back and lied about it?” Kel opens his mouth and Paul holds up his hands. “No, never mind, your opinion is irrelevant. You don’t know what a good man you lost.”

Paul stares Kel right in the eyes until the other man loses his nerve, dropping his gaze.

“Whatever, you’re out of your mind.” Kel sidesteps Paul and Bertrand, stalking back into the restaurant.

Paul whirls to follow, but this time Bertrand gets in Paul’s way. “Time to let it go. You’ve said your piece. This isn’t going to get justice for Hugh.”

Paul looks toward the restaurant. He could follow Kel and then… do what? He relents. “Was he _always_ this way?”

“No,” Bertrand says wistfully. “I don’t really know what happened to him. We used to be friends. But I can’t abide someone who will take advantage of your trust again and again. Let alone someone who would hurt Hugh this badly.”

Paul peers around the corner of the hallway. No sign of Kel. “Maybe he’s gone.”

“Restroom still?”

“Oh, right.” 

When they return to the table a couple minutes later, Hugh, Celestina, and Jaime are laughing uproariously about a video Celestina has on her padd.

He can’t tell Hugh what happened now. Still, he wraps an arm around Hugh’s shoulders as he slides back into the booth, wanting to keep him safe.

That night, back in their hotel, Hugh is spooning Paul, his Starfleet pajamas soft against Paul’s back under the covers, warm arms holding him tight.

“Thanks for a great day.” Hugh kisses the back of Paul’s neck, sending a satisfying shiver up Paul’s spine. “I hope it wasn’t too weird meeting my friends.”

Paul shakes his head. “No. I can see why they’re your friends. They’re all just like you.”

Hugh snorts. “What does _that_ mean?”

“They’re genuine, and friendly. They care about people a lot. And they also all like you, just like I do.”

Hugh kisses Paul’s neck again. Paul closes his eyes, savoring the sensation. “Not just like you do,” Hugh jokes. “I’ve never slept with any of them. But I did do a lot of cuddling since… well, since Kel.” Hugh sighs, a puff of warm breath against Paul’s shoulder. “I needed a lot of comfort. And I can’t believe of all the places on Earth we went to when I finally came back, there he was. I left Earth because of never wanting that to happen.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Paul says quickly, wriggling around under Hugh’s arm to face him.

Hugh’s dark eyes are fixed on the wall behind Paul’s head, far away in thought, but his brows are knitted together. “At least he didn’t come over and talk.”

Paul wrestles with the prospect of telling Hugh about his encounter with Kel. But Hugh would want to know. “Bertrand and I ran into him outside the restroom. We… spoke. Briefly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Hugh asks softly.

“I wanted you to enjoy your lunch. He doesn’t deserve a moment of getting to hurt you.”

“I kind of wish I got to see you give him a piece of your mind. Haven’t really gotten to see you train that whole salty wit of yours on your enemies.” The crinkles at the corners of Hugh’s eyes let Paul know that he’s really enjoying the image. “I bet you can be _scathing_.”

Paul grins back, leaning in to kiss those beautifully smiling lips. “Years of arguing with Straal does have its benefits.”

“Was he just as self-involved as I remember?”

“Probably more so. I tried to take him down a notch. Remind him that he’s not worthy of being anywhere near you.”

Hugh’s smile fills Paul with such contentment that it takes his breath away. He looks over Paul’s shoulder, meets his eyes again. He takes a deep breath. “I’m so grateful for you.” His eyes fill with tears and he hides his face against Paul’s shoulder.

A wave of warmth fills Paul’s chest and he can’t keep it from spilling over. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” he murmurs gently.

Hugh’s head whips up, damp eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. “No?”

“I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone,” Paul says, feeling uneasy and vulnerable. “I love you more than -” Hugh’s lips crash into his, and Paul wraps his leg over Hugh’s legs, holding him close.

Finally Hugh pulls back, meeting Paul’s curious gaze. “I love you too, sweetheart. Meeting you was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

How such a sparkling gem of a man can look in Paul’s eyes and say those words with such sincerity, Paul thinks he will never know. But as he pulls Hugh close again for deeper kisses, he hopes he’ll always inspire that kind of admiration. He knows Hugh does for him - Straal can’t honestly say Paul loves nothing more as he loves his mushrooms, not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been kicking around for over a year now and I'm glad to have had the nudge to finish it, from the chatty nerds of the USS Spaceboos Discord and particularly the looming deadlines of Culmets Week :D  
Let me know what you think!


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